


slaughterhouse, killing floor, morgue & final resting

by whitew0rms



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horror, Gen, Inspired by Flesh Mechanic: Not An Au, M/M, Multimedia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 10:12:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14162559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitew0rms/pseuds/whitew0rms
Summary: Brian never met Griffin. He made a video with him once, but he never met him, not really. They were facebook friends. Brian was a fan, and a colleague, but he never met him never knew him.He guesses that’s what makes it easier for him. What makes it possible for him to rake through the videos, to listen to the podcasts, the live shows, to listen to ever inflection. He watches every take Griffin sent him for that one video, reads through the emails Brian sent where he explained Scrundler, the semi-professional tone Griffin took when it came to work.He’s separated from Griffin. He never knew him.Probably never will.





	slaughterhouse, killing floor, morgue & final resting

**Author's Note:**

> thank u to abby for being amazing and into this, and as always, i am sorry.

Brian never met Griffin. He made a video with him once, but he never met him, not really. They were facebook friends. Brian was a fan, and a colleague, but he never met him never knew him.

He guesses that’s what makes it easier for him. What makes it possible for him to rake through the videos, to listen to the podcasts, the live shows, to listen to ever inflection. He watches every take Griffin sent him for that one video, reads through the emails Brian sent where he explained Scrundler, the semi-professional tone Griffin took when it came to work.

He’s separated from Griffin. He never knew him.

Probably never will.

 

  
[Transcribed From The Herald Dispatch, 2017]

Local boy made it big Griffin McElroy has disappeared from his home in Austin, Texas. His brothers, Justin McElroy and Travis McElroy, have been making impassioned pleas on Twitter and Youtube that if anyone knows anything about the whereabouts of Griffin McElroy, they should contact the police immediately.

Clint McElroy made an impassioned plea in his own video where he asks Griffin to please just contact them.

 

They don’t really talk about either of them at the Polygon Office. They make the videos, joke around, go out for drinks. It’s normal and good, and it’s a nice place to work. Brian likes it, loves his colleagues, thinks that this is the best job he could’ve gotten, but there’s a part of him that knows he’s here because something awful happened.

He’s here because something went wrong, and now there’s a gap where two men used to be. One of them kicked himself out through his own stupidity, and the other one is just gone.

Brian wonders about Griffin a lot. They all do really.

They try not to think about Nick.

 

  
He’s trawling through all the weird inane McElroy groups that pop up, more of them every time he visits Facebook, more every minute really when he sees one that almost seems like a bot made it. It can’t be real, can it?

Brian feels a chill fall down his back. He knows the fans are ridiculous, but this seems a bit excessive. He clicks the Join button, and sees three questions pop up.

  
He stares at the questions for a few answers, begs the answers to come to him, wants so desperately to know what lurks beneath.

But eventually he just closes his laptop and walks away.

  
[COMMENTS ON GRIFFIN MCELROYS LAST VIDEO AT POLYGON]

 

He wants to call Pat, wants to ask him to turn off commenting, wants to do something, anything. But instead he sits there staring at nothing until his eyes go hard.

  
There’s a corkboard on Brian’s wall. Old school, and not fitting with anything else in his room, the photos of friends, or the too soft bed that takes up much of the room. It sits, huge and foreboding, the corkboard.  
  
He spends a lot of money on paper, printing everything out, but he likes it. There in the centre, is the House. He thinks it’s in West Virginia maybe, or maybe California, or maybe even Texas. He has no clue. It could be none of them.

It’s a 64 hour drive without traffic from Austin, to San Francisco, to West Virginia. 64 hours in a car.

Brian knows he drove it.

The same way he knows Griffin never stopped once.

  
It’s easy to ignore the fact that Robinson disappeared 3 days after Griffin. It’s easy to ignore the space he left online, because most people didn’t like him anymore by that point, didn’t care where he was. He wasn’t working at Polygon anymore, and he wasn’t Soft, not like Griffin was.

Soft Boy.

It’s weird how it sounds in his mouth, the way it tastes.

Like rotten eggs.

But occasionally someone points out, the way Nick's twitter went blank, says 'wow, I hope he's learned a lesson', says 'lol he realized he fucked up' says one thing or another. Brian tries not to think about Olivia saying she doesn't know where he is, Porter saying his brother doesn't talk to him anymore.

 

  
[Transcribed From Good 4 Utah 2017]

Officers and emergency personnel were dispatched to 965 N Beck Street sometime after 8 a.m. when a passerby noticed a man lying face up in the canal who appeared to be dead. When officers arrived they confirmed the man, believed to be in his 20's, was deceased.

A Lieutenant with the Salt Lake City Police Department was only able to confirm that a body was found with all ribs missing, as if they had been removed, surgically. They could not offer any other information at this time.

Neither cause of death nor the victims identity is known at this time.

They ask anyone with any information to come forward.

  
When Brian joined Polygon, he had talked about Griffin, said he wanted to talk about Griffin, and he did every now and then. Talked about how Monster Factory made him laugh until he cried. Talked about how much he admired Griffin, talked about how much he hoped he was alright. His colleagues would grow pale, and not make eye contact.

Eventually Pat took him aside and spoke to him, his eyes wide and his mouth serious.

"You can't keep mentioning Griffin, Brian." He said, and Brian feels his eyebrows crease.

"Oh, uh, sorry, I didn't think, it's probably insensitive, I'm sorry" he stammered, worried, he never wanted to upset his colleagues.

Pat shook his head. "No, no. That's not it, you're fine. We don't really mind. It's not that"

"Then what?" Brian asked, confused.

"There are eyes and ears everywhere, you know." Pat said, looking up, and smiling through gritted teeth at Brian.

They don't talk about it again.

 

Sometimes people leave candles outside of the Polygon offices, which Brian thinks is nice, if a little inconvenient sometimes.

Sometimes they leave art, which is also nice, and sometimes Brian picks it up, takes it home.

Sometimes they leave shrimps, whole, uncooked, strange and blue, wet and strange on the pavement. It's fine really, he gets it, it's fine.

Sometimes, they leave bones.

Brian tries not to think about it.


End file.
